


A Month of Fun

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: 30 Days of Smut Challenge, Anal Fingering, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of self-indulgent smut centered around a certain hawk eye user.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Standard Procedure

**Author's Note:**

> MidoTaka, doctor!AU

"Standard procedure?"

"Yes, standard procedure. You’re a new nurse at this clinic and I am going to do my utmost to ensure that you are perfectly healthy before you begin your job."

Which meant a thorough checkup by the doctor himself, including a prostrate exam. He’d learned about in medical school, he’d practiced it on a couple of volunteers with the professor breathing down his back, hell he studied overseas once and messed around with a robot butt.

Ah yes, fun times.

But anyway, Doctor Midorima’s logic was very sound, very professional sounding, and very full of dull words. The thing that put him on edge though was the steely look in those viridian eyes. Dark, hard, and something he’d seen before in medical school practices.

This wasn’t standard procedure.

And frankly, he thought while dropping the pants of his scrubs and boxers, he didn’t care. The doctor was hot, and he knew what he was doing, and Takao completely didn’t mind if he was going to get fingered by this guy. He focused on bending over and folding his arms on top of the exam table, making sure the swell of his ass was up in the air was followed by the swooping curve of his back to attract the other male. Or something like that. As much as the doctor’s intentions were clear, the hint of a blush and flickering eyes clearly showed that Midorima didn’t do something like this with hidden intentions very often.

Instead, he focused on the snap of gloves behind him. He could already imagine it—rubber plastic tightly pulled over long, bony fingers and manicured nails, and the doctor holding the hand up with the glint of his glasses coming from the overhead light, poised as if he was about to go into a righteous battle and enter unmarked territory—

Well, his ass definitely was unmarked territory for Midorima, that was for sure.

"What’s so funny? …Are you feeling uncomfortable? I promise, this is standard procedure—" Whoops, looked like he had laughed out loud. Takao looked over his shoulder with a coy smile, perfectly innocent and open and inviting at the same time.

"No Doctor, I’m fine. Are you? I’ll guide you."

Cue a startled protest. Oh man, he could tell this job was going to be interesting as hell, even if nothing happened after this. The doctor was just way too much fun to tease. Takao faced forward again as he heard a dallop of liquid squeeze out of a bottle, accompanied by muttered grumbles about new workers underestimating him, but that didn’t curve his excitement for what was to come.

He sighed when a gloved finger finally entered him, melting down against the exam table. And judging by how the finger had instantly stilled, he was sure that the sound came out more lewd than he had intended, and he was pretty sure Midorima was on his way to mimicking a firetruck behind him too. Perfect. He reached back with a foot and playfully hooked it around one of the doctor’s as his hips pushed up to the fingers with a silent command.

"Doctor, you can keep going. It feels almost like nothing." Those words snapped Midorima out of his daze, it seemed, and Takao could feel the finger move deeper in, probing. Just one finger wasn’t much satisfaction, but he’d stay quiet about that and leave that thought for another time. With virginal guys like this, it was better to ease into things.

"Mm, yeah… A little deeper, and then give a little push okay?" he instructed, voice coming out breathy. What? Just the thought of the hot doctor fingering him, maybe being convinced to do more in the future, was getting him half-hard. The nurse was about to instruct some more, when—

"Ah..! O-oh, wow, you got some talented fingers…" Takao laughed, embarrassed that he would lose so much control as to actually moan like that. Not that he was having that much control at all, now that he thought about it, belatedly realizing that he must have moved his hips for more when another flash of pleasure blinded him for a moment and sent a curl of heat down to his abdomen.

Well, damn. Screw this.

The nurse threw protocol out the metaphorical window and reached behind to pull Midorima’s hand out, earning him some confused spluttering. He didn’t let go though, turning around and climbing onto the table with a grunt and the crinkles of sterile paper. He grinned at the doctor, a smile that wasn’t just coy but also sharp, lustful, pulling the practitioner closer as he moved the other’s hand back into position, right against his clenching, wet entrance.

"W-What are you— Takao, this is unorthodox— Stop this right now!"

"Don’t wanna." He licked his lips while looking at the other man, slowly, watching as those attractive irises dilated with heady want as they followed his tongue’s course. His intentions were clear.

"Now, doctor, I wanna see more of your skills. Show me what these fingers can do?"


	2. Day 2: Spanking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nakatani/Takao, spanking

Three steps more, two steps, then one and he was finally in his room, smacking the door shut and briskly crossing the floor only to turn around and sink down against the wall and onto his bed. Today had been game day. Not like an official game, but it might as well have been. Seirin was their opponent, and no one could fire up Midorima like Kagami, no one could match up to his Hawk Eyes like Kuroko, no team could surprise them every time, keep the team running in a frenzy, keep the bench on the edge of their seat.  
  
And then they had lost, and Takao was secretly glad.  
  
It wasn't like he wanted to lose, or was trying to—on the contrary, Takao was racing across the court, using fakes up and down and switching out passes to shots to driving past his opponents. But could he be called a masochist? The memory of their coach, face stern and disciplined after the loss and scolding the entire team like they were the children they really were, just the memory of that was enough to get him feeling hot all over.  
  
Nakatani's eyes, steely and hard, looked down on all of them. Then he remembered what it was like on his turn. Those eyes focused on him, contemplating and ordering all of his mistakes in the match before pursed lips finally parted to bated breath.  
  
"Takao."  
  
A quiet groan slipped past his lips. Oh god, just that memory was making him hard. Hell, he'd been turned on ever since then. But he doesn't reach down to take care of himself. At least, not yet. All he does is zip open his pants, (careless fingers sliding over a hard bulge with a hissing sigh), kicking his slacks away. Then the brunet turned onto his stomach and dropped his hips hips low, until he was grinding away against his bed.  
  
Takao could hear the low, scolding voice of his coach, Nakatani giving him a look of displeasure and exasperation every time he fooled around. Not just in practice though, when he would purposely miss passes close to where the coach was sitting. But in class too, when he'd answer a question wrong or admit to forgetting his textbook, again.  
  
The rough feel of cotton underwear just wasn't enough, but the point guard was punishing himself. He was a masochist like that at times, but he always came harder then too. Idly, with a quiet sigh of pleasure and need, he wondered if Nakatani would ever consider giving him a harsher punishment than words.  
  
Takao, stop fooling around, he would say. Get your act together. Are you doing great this on purpose? The thought of those words sent a spark of pleasure down his spine and straight to his cock, and Takao was rotting faster against his bunched up blankets.  
  
Concwntrate. Harder. Feel it. His own needy last was changing the memory into something much more desirable. Takao imagined the coach standing before him, that contemplating look on his barely wrinkled face before he sighed in disappointment. Another shiver of curling heat went through him, and Takao had to smother his face against the bed to keep quiet.  
  
He grabbed onto his pillow and hugged it for some kind of anchor, moaning gladly muffled by it as the friction finally was getting to him, causing through him like slow, barely enough pleasure. If only if he could get more, if only if he could get something harder, faster, stronger...  
  
This was punishment, after all. But he imagined Nakatani giving him just that. A swift hand coming down to smack against his raised behind. Stinging pain making the brunet's ass sting and throb with pain that just felt so good. They'd be in the classroom with him gripping the teacher's desk, and Takao would shake his ass, taunting Nakatani because he could never have enough.  
  
Are you doing this on purpose? Sometimes the words would slip with another exasperated sigh from the older man, and it sent more spikes of needy pleasure through Takao. If Coach ever found out about his desires, what would happen? Would he give him a disgusted look? Or a troubled one, because Nakatani was truly a good person? Or maybe, possibly, would he even agree to follow with his fantasies?  
  
Like another rough smack to his rear, stinging slap after slap sending shocks of pain pleasure into his system, cold words scolding the brunet for how obviously he writhed and moaned and enjoyed this. The heavy hand spanking his ass until Takao was clinging to whatever he could, reduced to a drooling bundle of nerves.  
  
By then, he'd only be crying for more, all sense gone from him, and Nakatani might sigh again, but he'd indulge. The hand would come down with hidden strength that would remind Takao that this was the hand of a former national athlete, hitting his skin with a resounding slap that only urged him on. Again and again, without a moment to rest, and soon enough—  
  
Takao came. It was all he could do to clutch onto his pillow to muffle a loud cry, the imagined scenario coupled with slow spikes of pleasure from grinding down getting to him at last until he was twitching from how hard the orgasm had hit him. Sticky semen filled up in his underwear in a wet mess, and Takao turned his face to take in deep gulps of air, uncaring of the wet patch that was on his pillow now.  
  
His legs still felt too weak to stand on, and it always astounded Takao how he could get off like this without even touching himself. He'd definitely have to work on making things a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rather than a 30 day challenge, this is more of a 'i'm bad at writing and esp smut let's see if i can even get through this all' challenge


End file.
